The Queen
by Chengwangofmacau
Summary: Under the rule of the Queen, Wales has to say one thing. To say that his independence has dissolved into a grain of sand
1. Chapter 1

Facing the queen had never been this hard, but as he stared into her sunken, beady eyes, he felt small and like he was five again. Her nails bit into his pail cheek like butter, drawing small crescent moons of blood, tilting his head backwards to criticize his features further over the top of her sharp nose. Dylan wanted to rip his face from the witches grasp, to bare his teeth and snarl at the woman and to show her what the personification of Wales could really do, but he knew the consequences would be far worse than what he was willing to take right now. He had to respect her, no matter how badly he would like to watch her burn; and his mother and brother raised her right, he respected a woman no matter how bad. He would behave, he would be a god boy, if not for him then for Arthur. This was the younger boys empire, his kingdom, Dylan wasn't so stupid and cruel to act out, have one more of the boys brothers labeled as savage, it would look bad on Arthur. Who would follow the man who comes from the line of crazy and wild boys? The boys who lashed out and ravished for spilt blood. He knew he wouldn't follow a man who came from crazed blood, so why would the English? He was a good captive, he went to his cell without a fight, he didn't scream or try to escape when the guards had their extra fun or when their weapons lashed against his once milky skin. He was the perfect shell. Dylan was forced onto his feet and shoved out from his cold haven. It was in the times where he limped out of his new home that he missed the wet concrete and the soft drip of water the leaked from cracks in the ceiling. This was a routine for the boy now, it was normal for the English sun to blind him as he made his way into the courtyard where hundreds of Englands citizens stood, yelling profanities at him as he made his way to the single wooden pole in the center. Dylan locked eyes with the witch who sat proudly in front of him, her cold sapphire eyes boring into his. Arthur stood rigid behind her, face twisted into a face he hadn't seen in years. The Welshmans' hands were bound none to gently by thick rope around the post, there to keep him from moving. The first crack of the whip hurt the most, always did, but the way the boy acted nobody could have ever been able to tell. His knees sunk deeper into the frozen mud, breaking through the top layer as the whip came across his back again and again. He vaguely saw his brother flinch after each crack, he saw as the blonde moved to step down the stairs and move to his aid, and he also saw the queen place her arm in front of him, halting his movements. Servants of the house had lined the sides, keeping the citizens at bay and to clean his wounds if the queen permitted, but they had ran into their quarters when the first scream tore from his throat. Every night had been the same for the past month, a single question would escape the womans thin lips, and he would give her his answer in mumbled Welsh, and the beating would continue until his world faded. She never asked more than once, never needing to

"Now, I'll ask you again, what do you say you ingrate?" her voice grated against his ear drums, making his head ring and his wishes for peace to continue. His response earned a gasp to emit from the crowd of citizens before a loud applaud to erupt amongst the crowd. He saw his little brothers green eyes widen in shock, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. The corner of the queens lips curled into a snarl, but looked like a average smile to the regular human. Arthur moved from around the womans outstretched arm and made his way towards the struggling boy

"Dylan " the English accent tore through the chilly air and met his ears and damn, he just wanted to hear his own accent for just a second

"say it again, louder" her voice drifted to him, and he swore his head would explode from this accent. Her smirk never left her pale face, and Dylan wanted nothing but to wipe it from her face, but this was his white flag

"all hail the queen of England "


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Yall really liked the first story so here is a chapter two. I'm sorry its so bad. I wrote this while absolutely exhausted. I hope you like it and sorry for any confusion because I have no clue what I aimed for here XD**

The days grew longer and the beatings grew worse. No sign of remorse shone in his younger brothers face as the leather whip hit pale skin. Arthur would always turn away, refusing to look into the elders eyes. Allistor had now joined Dylan, he too staring at the blonde as he grunted through the pain. Forest green eyes looked up from their previous position, glaring at his own small and tattered feet to Allistor, who glared at the steel bars covering the small, pitiful window

"hey...Allistor" his own shocked him; Dylan has never heard his voice sound so...pathetic. Allistor looked up to his younger brother, taking in his small figure. The Scotsmans eyes softened as he his gaze fell upon the others frame. Dylan has always been small, but he seemed to have shrunk upon staying in his small, now shared, cell. Ribs were prominent on the Welshmans frame, Allistor no longer had to search for them. The boys ribs jutted out like mountains, as did his back bone. His once neat and perfect auburn hair was smooth to the touch, shining in the blazing sun, but was now matted and greasy. Dylan laid curled in the corner, bony knees to his chest, shivering from the cold that seemed to linger and stay in not only the cell, but his body.

"Yes?" Allistor hadn't yet gotten dragged deep into the burden of the queen. He once was a obeying man, listening and doing what he was told. Dylan had been the one to rebel first, the first to utter 'No' to the queen, first to be publicly humiliated. Allistor had been the one to jump to his younger brothers aid, he too falling into the hands of the queen. Dylan had cried at his brothers first lashing, only flinching momentarily as the whip met skin.

"Do...Do you think Arthur cares? Do...do you think he tries to stop the queen, tries to reason with her after our beatings? " the question shocked Allistor, the shock quickly replaced with numerous other expressions being shown. Rage was a more prominent expression, but to the Welshman, rage at him. Dylan tries to curl further into himself, but there was no more room for him to curl into the corner.

"No...all he cares about is our land, not our actual being. If he had it his way...we'd be dead. If I had it my way...France and England and everybody else would be dead and we' d be happy and healthy and not here...we' d be free and not prisoner to our own younger brother" Dylan shifted, now fully leaning sideways against the wall. Allistor suppressed a wince, he brother looked even more skin and bones from the side. The redhead mentally counted how long it had been since he'd physically seen the boy consume something more than a burnt scone, and he came up with four...four days since the boy had consumed something his body desperately needed.

"that's our family...that's..that's home.." Dylan instantly saw the rage as it flashed into his brothers eyes, the normally neutral expression flash into a expression filled with nothing but pure disgust for the words that were dared to be uttered into the open

"Family?! Family doesn't treat us like this! Family doesn't turn on one another. Ireland sided with England, even you did! How can you be my family when you helped them take away my independence?! " with each word the Scots voice rose and rose, nearly screaming at the end. Dylan couldn't hold back the tears that lurked for so long,he finally let them slide down his cheeks in rivers, looking at the fading light that came from the barred window

"Because...t-they're all I...all I have left..." small hiccups shook the boys frame like small earthquakes, rattling his every bone painfully. Allistor said nothing as his brother quietly wept in the corner, lost in his own self pity. Time had passed slowly, Allistor had even dozed softly, but Dylan was wide awake, staring yet again at the brown brick wall that stood defiantly two inches from his face, he silently contemplated that if he smashed his head hard enough into the wall that he would die, or if his brother would stop him or maybe even a somebody would come remove him for labor in the garden or a lashing, but the thought was quickly dismissed when the familiar creak of the iron door sounded, reminding Dylan of exactly where he was.

The garden was nothing special, just lilies and rose bushes dotting a circular paved space, a single fountain standing in the center. It was always Dylans favorite place to work, that's why Dylan no longer worked in the garden these days. But today the garden seemed darker, holding an essence that Dylan didn't want to figure out the cause of. Normally the Welsh was floored to see the smiling face of Ireland, but from the low growl that sounded form Allistor who followed behind, today was not the day for smiles. The Irishman looked anything but happy, he looked so unhappy and sad and...a mixture of emotions that Dylan didn't have the time nor energy to decipher.

"Allistor, Dylan...nice to see you two today" of course, the redheads smile was on point, sending a new sense of happy and hope through the welshmans body, sending a new vigor he didn't know possible in this situation. He was about to reply when a shrill voice cut through the air, nearly sending him to the ground

"Don't speak to them. They are under my command, I don't need your influence on them, especially the younger one" there at the all too pristine table, sitting in a chair that Dylan thought deserved to be in a extravagant castle, not outside, sat the queen. Dylan felt the mans hand grip around his bicep, keeping him from hitting the ground. There sat his two other brothers, Ireland and England, in all of their great glory, independent, well fed and groomed, not beaten and scattered with infected wounds. Dylan had never felt more rage grow inside him as he did now.

"You! I hate you! You did this! I hate all of you!" Dylan tugged to get at the man, not that he had any strength to accomplish the mere dreams his mind supplied him, but he wanted nothing more than to rip his brothers throat out and to hold it in his hand, to offer it to Arthur and queen as a "gift", as a warning of what their future held for them, but all he received was a swift slap across his face. He more saw the flinch of Ireland and the angry expression of Scotland than felt the sharp sting on his cheek, but he paid them no mind, all his mind would focus on was the dizzy feeling in his head and the sharp screech of the woman in front of him

"teach him a lesson! Show our boys here what happens when you speak out not when asked to" the ropes around his wrists were given a sharp tug and off to the fountain he went, the same fountain he had cleaned the first week he was here, the same fountain he loved and the same fountain he knew would be giving him more pain than any war could ever give. He was roughly shoved against the concrete, his arms getting scraped as he tried to pitifully catch himself. He heard Allistor shout angrily, Ireland softly try to save his younger brother from the pain he knew he would have to watch. The first hit didn't hurt as near as much as it usually did, but soon the blow bled, and the stings turned to an agonizing pain that spread throughout his entire body. Scarlet ran down his back, down onto his stomach, onto his neck and into his hair. The whip moved all over the boys frail frame, tainting every free inch of skin. His ears buzzed painfully, sending painful waves into his foggy head. At some point he had closed his eyes, only momentarily stopping his tears, but not for the entire duration. The wet of the tears mixed with the blood that smeared his cheeks, oozing from fresh lacerations on his face

"What do you say, boy?!" the enraged voice filled his ears. With each second that passed that Dylan didn't say the words, that he didn't give in, the hits came harder and faster and more pain met his senses. He grit his teeth against the pain, nearly screaming from the immense pain, but he kept himself in check, he kept himself from giving into this witches demands. He vaguely heard Allistor telling him to not give in, and he also heard Ireland begging for the queen to stop the torture. He felt his face hit grass as he was thrown to the ground, relishing in the cool grass against his face before a sharp kick to his stomach jolted him from his momentary peace.

"god! " he uttered from between clenched teeth. The queen held up a hand to the guard, signaling for him to stop his onslaught long enough to talk. Dylan opened his mouth to talk, but instead let out a choked sob. Tears spilled down his marred face despite his own wishes. He wailed and clawed and screamed at the ground, letting out all that had haunted him since his arrival

"shut him up" the queen declared, pointing a stick finger at his prone form. Long fingers grabbed his hair and lifted his head before forcefully pushing his face into the ground. Ireland moved forward, his hands out to stop the man that loomed over Wales, but a man came out to grab onto him, restraining the struggling man

"leave my brother!-"

"God save the queen!" Dylan blurted out, blood dripping down his face and onto the grass. His eyes were half lidded, showing off the dim green that once shone. Allistor gave the boy a pitiful look, Ireland had a look of disbelief on his face. The queen gave a single nod before turning around

"After you collect yourself...Dylan...clean the blood off my fountain and then get back to your cell" the last thing the brother heard the the click of the womans heels against the cobblestone, and the single uttered words of his brother

"Oh Dylan lad...what have you done?"

_Tremble for yourself. Man_

_you'll never settle any of your score _

_tremble for yourself, man _

_you'll never be all you were before _

_your grace is wasted in your face_

_your boldness stands alone among the wreck_

_and learn from your mother_

_or spend your days biting your own neck _

_but it was not your fault but mine_

_and it was your heart on the line_

_I really fucked it up this time _

_didn't I my dear?_

_Didn't I my dear? _

_**I really screwed this up XD. Didn't want to make this a two chapter but oh well. Review! And tell if you want a third chapter!**_


End file.
